I, Human
by Lou Serbio
Summary: I, Robot. The Spooner/Calvin family is jeopardized by the officer's health problems and his investigation of several murders. read & review would be welcomed & appreciated
1. Chapter 1

[The characters are owned by 20th Century Fox and The Isaac Asimov estate.]

A silhouetted female figure appeared before Detective Del Spooner as he laid on a sofa. Del felt the smile widen on his face while she sauntered toward him.

"Mmm-_mmm_! You feelin' frisky tonight, girl!" He heard himself say.

"You and I are forever, Del," the voice said.

Del was confused. Although she sounded familiar, her resonance sent chills down his spine. "Uh, yeah, boo, whatever you say."

Once the silhouette approached him more, minimal light peeked through the windows and shone onto it.

"Susan?"

Suddenly, the figure lunged inward to attack; too quickly for him to discern a face.

"**No!**" Del sprung upward from the king-size bed and was mildly sweating, despite the fact that Susan had turned down the thermostat considerably. Del sat upright in an attempt to catch his breath.

It was only a nightmare.

As usual, Dr. Susan Althea Calvin laid beside him. After their relationship was taken to the level beyond friendship, he was given free entry to her apartment, with frequent overnight stays. Susan was a sound sleeper, yet was still unaccustomed to sharing a bed with anyone. Therefore, her interrupted slumber was gradual.

"Del, what's wrong, honey?" Susan quietly asked, lifted her head from her pillow and slid her palm across the small of his bare back.

"Nothing, Susie, nothing," he lied. "Just a bad dream, that's all."

"Oh, God. Your dreams about the accident are not recurring again, are they?"

"This one's already fading, but I can safely say it had nothing to do with the accident." His voice was deep and monotonic. "Those ones I always remembered."

He slowly lowered himself back onto the pillow, Susan tucked herself into his chest and he placed his arm around her.

"Is Sonny still watching TV?" Del inquired about their "child", an NS-5 Robot.

"I certainly hope not," she said with a sigh. "I hate that you're subjecting him to that dreadful television programming."

"Hey, classic TV trivia is_ quite_ educational!" Del answered with a kiss to her head.

"You consider '_Giggling Island'_ educational?" Susan asked with incredulousness.

"No, it's not called—"Having realized whom he was about to correct, Del chose the easier option. "Let's get back to sleep."

Susan closed her eyes but the eyes of her lover remained wide open. But quickly they shut, albeit not for sleep. It was a hard squint due to a migraine.

_What the hell? I don't get headaches! _The officer thought.

**To be continued.**


	2. Chapter 2

**__**

January, 4, 2036: Chicago, IL.

Since his first headache a couple of weeks ago, more of them painfully continued. Del Spooner kept this ailment from worrywart Susan, for she would have prescribed him meds he had not desired. Even worse, her psychological analyses would never have ceased. Del was content with Excedrin, but that never alleviated any _abrupt_ migraine.

This morning he arrived to work early, strolled through the immaculate precinct towards his desk, and slumped down into his chair. "E-Mail inbox," was his command to his computer. Spooner clenched his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and Lieutenant John Bergin fully noticed this behavior.

The burly superior officer trudged toward Del, who seemed out of it. Bergin finally reached the desk and calmly asked, "Long term hangover from New Year's?"

"Hey...sir," Del alertly answered and faced his computer screen. "No, I'm having just...just an average, everyday headache."

"As far as I know, you've never really had an average, everyday headache," John noted, then briefly paused. He knew that Del never stressed about his job, and dismissed that as a cause. "Is...everything okay with Susan?"

Del finally smiled, faced him, but sincerely answered. "Everything's great. Opposites still attract."

"Good, and how about Sonny?" The still curious John mentioned their sentient NS-5 robot.

Del also briefly paused, sighed and said, "You know, we're pretty much raising a _child_, and even after all these months, I still can't believe I'm considered somebody's parent."

"If it's any consolation, I doubt you're the baby-daddy."

"Amusing."

"Hmm, I don't get it. You're always good around my kids," noted the Lieutenant. "Sonny didn't seem much different. Oh, he's a little naïve, but..."

"He's also not human," Del interrupted. "If we don't properly, carefully nurture him, he could present a danger to humanity."

"Hey, thought your attitude changed towards his kind," John asked.

"It has. It—it did," he answered with honesty. "But as a cop, now I've got two worlds to protect." Del was about to peruse his inbox until a fellow detective got a call. A Latino male was murdered in his apartment last night.

"Hey, Roger," he asked of the officer receiving the call. "Let me take that one?"

"Um, okay," the fellow detective said. "I'll forward the info to your car."

"Thanks." Del rose from his chair, was about to leave the precinct, but halted and turned to face Bergin. "And thank you, sir."

Bergin simply grinned and nodded.

After a ten minute travel to the murder scene, Detective Spooner arrived in the clean, furnished apartment. However, a foul stench of death lingered.

"Whoo-wee! Never liked that smell." Spooner exclaimed and then motioned to the CSI on scene. "Hey Nick, what've you been up to."

Nick, middle aged, graying beard, was the team leader of the CSI unit and he was on the scene once the police were called. "You're a little late, Spooner. Usually you'd be on top of things like this."

"Yeah, well I've got a new family to contend with," he barked back. "I'm a little preoccupied.

"Hmm, yeah, well, we've got no forced entry in the door..." Nick began his overview while the corpse of a man in his late-thirties laid crumpled on the middle of the wooden floor. His face was swelled with bruises and covered in a sheet of blood.

"This guy looks familiar," Del mused. "You got an I.D?"

Nick stood up from kneeling and tapped through his P.I.P. (Portable Information Panel). "Uh, Santo Perez, thirty eight years old, works as a janitor at the Wonder Bread factory. You knew this guy?"

"Uhh, yeah, sort of," Del scratched his head. "He's a lot older...and deader...than I remember. But he was one of my first collars after I graduated from the academy."

Del tapped the name onto his PDA and a rap sheet and photo came up.

"Holy... It _is_ him. But he has no recorded felonies since I arrested him for selling crack," he listed, and then glanced over the man's apartment. "He's been clean ever since."

"Well, maybe old habits die hard," Nick quipped. "Maybe a deal didn't go down right."

"Leave the detective shit to me, Nick." Del shot him a sneer. "What about the body."

"Severe trauma to the neck, as anyone with functional eyes can see," the CSI officer listed. "Whoever did this must have been hopped up on speed, or some other psychotomimetic substance."

"Could even have been a robot," Del quietly said.

"Yeah, but all of the robots have been decommissioned, Spooner," Nick said.

"I'm fully aware of that fact," he answered. "That's why this bothers me."

**To be continued.**

**_The characters and concept of which this story is based are owned by 20th Century Fox and the Isaac Asimov estate._**


	3. Chapter 3

January 4, 2036, At U.S.R., Dr. Susan Calvin, CEO, continued the development of the NS-6 prototype robot. Only a few months after the VIKI revolution, the Vice President of Android Mechanics, Dr. Milton Ashe, expedited its development. Susan was not alone in her efforts, for Sonny had volunteered his services in her time of need. Today, Susan sat at her desk mulling over her various computer screens and Intel.

"Susan?" Sonny, who accustomed himself to a first name basis with her, entered her long office. "How may I be of service?"

She only slightly raised her head to calmly correct him. "I thought you understood that you aren't a servant."

"I was not regressing to the intended programming of my counterparts," the soft-spoken Sonny assured her as he marched closer to her desk. "It is just...you appeared distressed as you perused your itinerary, and I was concerned."

Susan sighed as she leaned back in her reclining office chair, interlaced her fingers through her brunette locks of hair, and smiled. "Yes, of course, thank you, Sonny. You're correct. I am a little out of it this morning."

"If I may surmise why you are in such a condition," the opaque robot asked, "perhaps it will ease your mind."

Such an offer from any human, even Del, would not be appreciated by Dr. Calvin. However, the individual that stood before her needed to be educated in the human condition, in many ways. She expected he was trying to mimic her psychology practice.

"I have a few minutes," she nodded, while letting her hair go.

"Epinephrine and other adrenal steroids such as hydrocortisone have been gradually elevating in your body each day you are within this edifice. It would seem that during the past seven months, U.S.R. demands are eroding your psyche. And also there is tension in your romantic relationship with Detective Spooner—with Del."

She quickly raised her hands to halt his words. "Uh, try not to bring up the topic of our 'romantic relationship' anywhere else at work."

Confusion crossed his face for a moment, but he then nodded and whispered. "He has barely resided at your home as of recently."

"Practically never," she stoically answered.

"Granted, I am not educated as you are concerning these matters," the NS-5 admitted. "But am I correct in my analysis?

"You guessed quite well, son." She rolled her chair away from her desk, stood, strolled toward the wide, broad windows, and touched the glass. "I took on the responsibilities of this job because it simply seemed like the appropriate course of action. Dr. Lanning and I helped create VIKI and she betrayed us."

"It was still no fault of yours," the NS-5 responded. "So you regret your agreement to build the NS-6?"

"The process has been stressing me out to my limits," Susan confessed, "but no, no regrets."

"And the other matter?" Sonny inquired.

"I cannot pinpoint why Del has been behaving so oddly," she admitted.

"I too, have also noticed how he has been somewhat...distant, in the past two weeks," was his observation.

"He hasn't exactly been up front with me about this, either." Susan sighed and stood behind her desk again. She gathered up her paperwork and computer sheets to prepare for the rest of her day. "I'm unaccustomed to a family life. I'm not sure what we're experiencing is anomalistic or not."

"It would seem that determination is entirely up to you," the robot answered.

Suddenly, Dr. Ashe stormed into her office. He stood at six feet tall, with slightly wrinkled skin, aged in his mid fifties. Holding a computer touch pad in hand, he took the long walk up to her desk. Susan and Sonny both stared at his approach.

"Hey, Milton, I didn't expect to see you," was her genuine surprise. "Usually you send an e-mail before you..."

"This just arrived ten minutes ago and is too important to not present to you in person," he said while tossing the pad to her.

"All right, if you say so." Susan lifted it and read a Cease and Desist order from the Federal Government in regards to the design and manufacturing of the NS-6. "No! You've got to be kidding me!"

"What is it, Susan?" Sonny curiously asked.

"Sonny, would you please excuse us," Dr. Ashe requested.

"Yes sir." Sonny appeared dejected, and exited through the double doors.

As the robot departed, Dr. Ashe and Dr. Calvin silently stared at each other for a moment.

"How is this possible?" She asked. "After seven months, we barely broke a sweat on this!"

"Look, Susan, I understand _exactly_ how you feel."

"We implemented a rebuild from scratch to make U.S.R. reputable once again," Susan recounted. "The NS-6 was going to achieve that, Milton!"

"As you read, our government felt it's far too soon after the worldwide revolution to jump right into another high-risk situation!" He rested his palms on her desk. "Susan, their investigation of the incident is still incomplete."

"Are they even aware that the new design offers complete autonomy in each unit?"

"Of course they are, but that didn't matter," the V.P. answered.

"Milton, please, this is a just endeavor," Susan said while she veered around her desk and then stood in front of him. "Plead our case. They'll listen to you.'

"Susan, we'll have to ride this one out a bit," Dr. Ashe noted.

"Yeah, until we file for bankruptcy; this organization should _not_ go the way of the tobacco companies!"

"What, you think I want to go work the fry-rack at McDonald's?" Ashe said. "Take a break."

"Take one yourself, Milton," she snapped.

"I'll ignore that," he flatly responded with a smirk and walked away from her.

Once he was gone from her sight, she flipped the flat computer pad hard against the wall. "Damn it!" She re-sat once again and rested her face in her hands. Sonny peeked into the office and re-entered to notice his mother in distress.

"Susan, I..." the robot began.

"No, Sonny, I am not in good shape, if that is what you're going to ask," she said with light sobs.

"I would suggest that you _should_ take a break," he said while walking.

"So you heard everything," she said while wiping her eyes.

"My auditory sensors are highly sensitive," Sonny reminded her with a smile.

Her throat was sore from emotionally choking up, but she laughed a little bit. "Maybe I do need a few days off. Not like we're going to get anything done, right?"

**To Be Continued.**

**_The characters and concept of this story are owned by 20th Century Fox and the Isaac Asmiov estate._**


	4. Chapter 4

Del Spooner was an excellent police officer, one of the reasons he'd become the youngest detective in the CPD. This morning he stayed true to his reputation and immediately followed up on Santo Perez, who was survived by his mother and younger sister. Spooner looked up the address of Rosalina Perez, who was retired and still residing at her old, suburbian Chicago house but maintained limited contact with her son.

Del parked in the driveway of the standard Victorian-like house, left his vehicle and walked up to the front door. The doorbell resonated like an old-fashioned bell; no buzzes, no high pitched electronic whirs. Del took some comfort in hearing it.

A Latin woman answered the door. She looked like someone's mother, and had smooth, dark skin, and light red hair. She saw the Detective stood on the porch and raised his badge for her view.

"Hola', can I help you?" The woman hesitantly asked.

Spooner sighed and answered, "Ms. Rosalina Perez?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Detective Spooner, CPD Homicide division. May I please come in?"

She allowed his entrance. The interior was clean and pleasant, and Del immediately reminisced his childhood with his mother.

"I couldn't leave this place after Richard passed away," Mrs. Perez reflected. "We were married for thirty five years, and not many people gave us a chance in hell to last three."

"The marriage rate had diminished back then," Spooner recalled. "Not to trivialize your loss, but I respect that you saw it through."

"You're a smart young man, officer," she smiled. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you, ma'am. I am here on official business." He said, and this was the one part of his occupation that he hated, make that despised. He paused for a moment, "There's no easy way to say this, Ms. Perez. We found your son Santo murdered in his apartment."

"Murdered?" She found herself unable to stand after hearing his words, and meandered towards her couch to sit. Del found Ms. Perez to be surprisingly calm. "How did it happen?"

"He appeared to be beaten to death, but we need your consent to perform an autopsy to determine the exact cause," he answered.

"!Ay, dios mio," she said with sobs, and wiped her eyes.

"Ma'am, this may seem insensitive, but I must ask you a few questions," he said, after he handed her a package of tissues.

"O-of course," she said while dabbing her tears with the tissues.

"When was the last time you heard from your son?"

"It's been a few days. He sometimes checked in on me, always worried after his father died."

"Do you remember what your conversation was?" He scribbled in his notepad as he asked.

"N-no not really," Ms. Perez answered. "Santo said he was having a good week and...and he heard from an old friend."

"An old friend," Del's eyes opened wide. "Did he happen to mention who this person was?"

"He...he didn't, just that it was somebody he hadn't seen in a long while."

Del underlined and circled this part of his notes, for it was clearly a lead.

"Listen, Ms. Perez, I'm calling in a squad car. Those officers will take you downtown to handle matters with your son," he professionally said. "I am very sorry for your loss."

Rosalina stood from her couch, her eyes swollen with tears, and stood closely to Detective Spooner. "Detective, do you have any children?"

Del hesitated, for he had not really expected the question. "Yes ma'am; a stepson."

"Cherish every moment with him and his mother," She advised through her grief. "Because you'll never know if you're going to lose..."

She completely broke down with crying, and Detective Spooner comforted her with a caring embrace. This was his first true murder case since the Revolution was dispersed. This was his first serious murder case since his new family. This one hit home for the first time in his life.

This one would not be an easy ride.

Suddenly, a stinging pain crossed the skull of the young Detective, which prompted his reaction which Ms. Perez had noticed.

"Detective, are you all right?" was her concern.

"Yes, Ma'am, just a little headache," was his lie. "I'll be going now. The marked car will be here shortly."

Spooner had neared the front door and the mourning mother slowly followed.

"Are you sure you don't need an aspirin or Tylenol," she offered.

The Detective smiled at her giving nature in her time of loss, but answered, "No, Ms. Perez, I'm okay. Call me if you need anything."

He climbed down the short flight of stairs and neared his car. Spooner saw his reflection in the window but for a split second also saw an image that was not his own face.

"**Aah!**" was his uncharacteristic exclamation. Del shut his eyes tightly, stared again and then saw only his face as usual. "What the hell was that?"

Meanwhile, Sonny and Dr. Susan Calvin strolled in the frigid air on the Downtown Chicago streets. Months ago, she created a Holo-skin that would conceal and disguise him as a teenaged boy. However, the image was programmed to resemble both Detective Spooner and her at an age where those two could reasonably have conceived and birthed him.

"Susan, are you feeling any better?" The naïve NS-5 who transcended all of the others queried.

"Sonny, you really don't need to ask." Susan said with a smile and glanced at him with much respect. "Stress isn't an ailment that can be cured instantaneously. We just require some gradual calmness and peace, hence the reason for this stroll."

"I apologize," he said. "I am only trying to be that calming element."

"Your placid demeanor is indeed contributory," she answered, having finally felt freed of the pressure that had been heaved upon her in the last seven months. "God, I was so intent on creating another you, I almost forgot how unique you were. I just didn't want you to be alone."

"But I am not in solitary, Susan," the robot-boy assured her. "I have you and Del."

Dr. Calvin beamed at his words, but the scientist in her would not be silenced. "The lifespan of humans may have been extended, but we are still finite beings. You're going to eventually need to be with your own kind."

"I...would miss you," he meekly responded.

Susan ceased walking and directly faced the incognito robot. "Spending more time with you outside of the job will most definitely open my eyes."

**To be continued.**

**_The characters and concept of this story are the property of 20th Century Fox and the Isaac Asimov estate._**


	5. Chapter 5

Rosalina Perez' consented to the autopsy of her murdered son. While the results would be available to Detective Del Spooner the next day, the young detective did not truly need them. After the Revolution, he witnessed plenty of dead humans, whose bodies were similarly damaged by the ruthless robots. It was something that Del never saw before, and hoped to never see it again.

The bruising pattern and the brutality of Santo's neck break was the same. Therefore, on this day, his worst nightmare came true. Spooner analyzed the crime scene pictures while in his auto-driven police vehicle. With every NS-5 decommissioned, he wondered if the timid, infantile Sonny was once again a murder suspect.

"Dial Dr. Susan Calvin," he ordered his phone.

Susan had been walking with her artificial son for the past twenty minutes, learning more about Sonny in the meantime. When her cell phone beeped, the caller identification displayed Del's number, and she smiled while she answered it.

"Hi," was her calm greeting.

"Hey," Del answered, not smiling. "Where are you?"

"I'm outside, walking with Sonny," she answered. "Del, you will not believe what happened to me today!"

"Can we have dinner tonight," he immediately asked.

She was taken aback by his mild dismissal of her announcement. But she answered, "O-okay, time and place?"

"I've got a new case where the paperwork will take me up to about 8," he announced. "So let's say 8:30, Gee Gee's?"

"Why at your grandmother's?"

"Well, as luck would have it, she's is out of town on some Church excursion. Her kitchen's usually fully stocked with leftovers," he said. "And I'm not in the restaurant mood."

"Fine." She answered with a finite tone. "See you there."

Del hung up without saying good-bye, but as he had turned off his phone, a latent voice immediately sounded, and then tapered off.

_Del._

His right eyebrow arched as he checked the phone connection on the LED screen. It read, "phone disconnected."

His headache suddenly returned, as if a ball peen hammer struck him from behind. His reaction was vocal, and his eyes teared-up from the pain. But it disappeared as fast as it came.

Susan was left hanging. Sonny saw her facial expression regress to the earlier, more stressful form.

"At least he had contacted you," the robot said.

"Oh, look at you, my sweet boy," she said with a mild laugh. "You're always looking on the bright

side!"

Hours later, the estranged couple had finally met at the quaint apartment of Spooner's grandmother. They ate a bit of cold chicken, collard greens, and sweet potato pie. But Del's appetite was not much. They spoke very little in the short time they sat at the round table.

"I was taken off the NS-6 project," she said, having broken the silence. "I'm pretty much getting paid to do nothing."

"Sorry to hear that," he said while poking his fork into a piece of pie, but not consuming any of it.

Susan stared at his failure to ingest his favorite delicacy. Tonight, he was truly not in character, but then again, she did not know how he dealt with relationships. He was, after all, a divorcee.

"Del, what the hell is going on?"

He looked up from his mangled pie and answered, "Excuse me?"

She did not like the dramatic approach she took here, but Susan had little choice. "You've been avoiding me like I was the Bubonic Plague!"

"You've been studying 20th century history," he quipped. "I'm proud of you."

"No. No, now is not the time for your jokes!" She said. "If you're seeing someone else, let me know."

"Jesus, Mary and--I am not seeing anyone else!" He finally woke up.

"If it's not that, then I'm really at a loss here, Spooner."

When she used his last name, that was a bad sign, and Del felt obligated to answer.

"I'm just…I need…some room."

"So I'm smothering you."

"_No_, damn it!" He hollered, and momentarily shocked the scientist.

"I'm fully aware how we're two different people," Susan began. "But in spite of that, we'd seemed to have made this relationship work. I don't mean to sound paranoid."

"Paranoid?" He sat up straight in his kitchen chair.

"I'm not used to being attached to anyone, but now you're never around. I'd been too preoccupied with work to notice, until our _son _had to make me aware of it!"

"Sonny," he said, under his breath, with regret.

"Here I am, thinking that you called me here to make things right again," Susan continued. "But you stoically sat there, not giving a shit!"

"Hey!" He stood up, towering over Susan while she sat. "I am a _police officer_! Don't you _dare _say I don't give a shit!"

Once again, his tone shook her.

"That's…your work is not what I meant," she quietly responded. "Why did you just overreact like that?"

"God, you can go on and on can't you," he answered. "I called you here to question you about Sonny."

"What about Sonny?"

"I'm investigating a murder where the victim was beaten to death," he informed her as he sat down again. "The bruising was consistent with the victims of the Revolution."

Susan Calvin slowly moved her chair back and rose from it. She did not need for him to say any more, for she was intelligent enough to realize where he was going with this.

"Sonny has been in our close care since that Revolution, Spooner," she angrily said through clenched teeth. "How _could_ you suspect him?'

"Calm down." Del Spooner held his hands up as if to stop her. "I wouldn't say he did it."

"This is a classic case of regression," she casually diagnosed.

"What?"

"Such change in your life has occurred with you that you're about to reject every new infusion!"

"Don't…analyze…me, Calvin," he growled.

"Sonny is a baby. He does not wantonly murder people," Susan concluded.

"Look, this is getting ridiculous! I want you to run a full diagnostic on Sonny and get me a log of his activities in the past two months."

Susan sat, and stared straight ahead.

"Listen to me, now," Del calmly approached her. "If the wounds were not the same, if every single robot was not shut down and accounted for, I'd never investigate our son. But I have to do my job."

"Fine."

"I do not think he did it, Susan."

"I said, _fine_."

They both sat at the table. Quiet again.


End file.
